


The Fae and the Fool

by 1lostone



Series: The Fae and The Fool [1]
Category: Faerie Folklore, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fae, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bit angsty in parts, But ultimately there'll be a happy ending., Daryl is a Fae Lord, Deals gone horribly awry, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Humor, M/M, Now a series!, Rick is distraught, Rickyl Writers' Group, Taking JRR Tolkien's name in vain, This is far less cracky than you're probably expecting, attempts at humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:52:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  Daryl is a Fae Lord.  Rick is distraught over Lori’s death in childbirth and wishes himself away.  This is a super, secret surprise fic for lucife56 for doing lovely fanart for Jlm121!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucife56](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucife56/gifts).



> Thank you to **skarlatha** for the beta!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Now a series! Be sure to subscribe because this will be added on at random times throughout the year. :D

Sometimes, being Lord of the Fae _sucked._

 

First of all, humanity had really strange ideas about the Fae. Some believed that they were jolly little toy makers, content to work as indentured servants in the frozen wasteland of the north, as some ultimate checks and balances system for good behavior by greedy children  throughout the year. (Still, that was better than the fools that thought his people made cookies--- _cookies (_ **!!!** _)_ \--- in the _trees_ !) Some thought the Folk were all tall, and blonde, and immensely graceful wood sprites able to shoot a bow and arrow so majestically that it defied the natural law of physics.  Yet still, some believed that they were winged little trickster pixies who sprinkled fairy dust and cheer and mischievousness everywhere they went.  There was some truth to all of that.  The Faerie Folk _were_ crafty, and they _were_ graceful. They _did_ come from the forest, and were often considered tricksters by the stone-stupid humans they’d outwitted. Only royalty were winged, though, at least in the way you're probably thinking. 

 

Then there was the tremendous boredom.  The fae folk were blessed (although sometimes some would say _cursed_ ) with immortality.  Very little changed over eons.  Pretty much the most significant change to happen in recent history was the addition of wifi to the Underhill. There were only so many hobbies one could have, and wifi alleviated a lot of bored Fae. His people had been Kings of the Wood for millennium, and there was very little that he couldn’t do outdoors.  Even with the encroaching pollution and detritus left by the humans (even the strange darkness humanity currently suffered from), the Fae found themselves experts at any field they decided to pursue. They had the time to kill after all.

 

And finally, there was the Binding of Law.  None of the Fae were exempt from its pull. Their Law was final, and absolute. In all of Fae history, only one had ever dared break their Word, and his crime was so horrendous that none of the other Fae would even speak his name- to this day. They would whisper about his crimes, about how he turned his back on his people, about the oaths he broke, but he was never Named. The Law was simple: when the Word was spoken, all must obey. Human history had bastardized it- made a joke of its importance. Fortunately, intent was quite vital or they’d be up to their eyeballs in squalling, human brats. Still, if within the Presence of one of the Fae, when the Intent was pure, and the Words were true- they must obey.

 

So, when Rick, covered in blood and gore, skin still sweaty from exertion, flushed from adrenaline and terror saw Maggie carrying his minutes-old newborn, her eyes blind with her tears and regret, something happened. There might have been a chance, if Rick’s blue gaze hadn’t skittered immediately to Carl’s bone-white face, to the way the child couldn’t quite let go of the barrel of his gun. But Rick did.

 

If heartbreak had a sound, it would be the cracked voice of Rick’s scream of agony.

 

None of them could move with the horror of it. Even the babe, still covered in the blood of its mother remained quiet, aside from the occasional pathetic little whimper.

 

“No. _No_ ... Carl?” Rick’s wrecked voice was somehow worse. They knew. They _all_ knew what had gone on in the bowels of the prison. How could they not? It was written all over Maggie's and the boy's face.

 

“Dad. I’m... I’m sor-sor-”

 

And then it happened: Intent, even brief, heartbroken intent, was there. The Words came, broken and sputtered with Rick’s inner guilt-

 

“I wish... I wish Lori was here in-... in my place instead of me.”

 

-and in the presence of one of the Fae-

 

“Aw, _shit_.” Daryl sighed and closed his eyes.

 

_-and he and Rick disappeared._

 

 

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 1

There wasn’t anything so mystical as a flash of light, or a poof of fairy dust.  Daryl didn’t have time for any of that shit. He’d been living as a human for so long- and one with fairly simple needs at that- that he didn’t want to waste what magic he had left. 

 

One blink and Rick was in the human world, overridden by walkers. 

 

Another blink and they were at Daryl’s Hill. Daryl had the presence of mind to use a bit of his power to send Rick into a slight sleep, but everything else had happened so quickly.  

 

Daryl hadn’t been to his Hill in several hundred years. Since he’d been banished from all of Underhill, and far from the ley lines that brought the magic to his People, he’d kind of had to scrounge together what he could.  His people would be horrified to see the simple set of caves he had called home for an indeterminate number of years. (Honestly? Daryl had  lost count. Sometime after Charlemagne and before the Renaissance... but he couldn’t swear to it.) There was enough of a trickle of magic to keep his home concealed from any curious Fae that happened along, and it allowed him to replenish his personal magic if he rested there long enough, but that was it. 

 

Daryl gestured and Rick floated behind him, into the cave’s main area. It hurt his heart to see Rick so upset. Even in sleep, his face was screwed up into a rictus of grief that fairly shouted to anyone who cared to look that Rick was very much Not Okay. 

 

Daryl sighed and looked around.  He muttered a spell under his breath to vanish the dust and carcasses from ancient beasts that had at one point or another in his absence used his home as a refuge, and set the sleeping Rick onto the flat, worn stone that served as his bed.  Over the centuries the once-rough surface had become smooth, with little divots for one’s head and backside- but Daryl, having once stumbled into a mattress store in the late sixties, had quickly changed to something much more comfortable.  The problem was, of course, that he hadn’t been here in so long that the mattress he’d had had long since crumbled to dust. 

 

Daryl sighed again and quickly checked his personal magical stores. The problem with being exiled so long ago was that since he didn’t have ready access to the ley lines that crossed through Underhill, he didn’t have as much magic as he once took for granted. It had forced him to be clever, and careful, and not waste it when not needed. Fortunately, since Rick was here in Daryl’s HIll due to a Binding, the magic that was used to get him here was not from Daryl or his personal stores, as it would take so much that he’d be left prostrate on the cave’s floor. And, given that the Fae involved in a Binding was then not only bound to the human who’d made the wish, but their Hill, it would have been a long damn time until he was missed. Bindings usually happened to those tied to the Underhill, not to Fae who had been banished. 

 

Rick twitched and made a soft pain sound, and Daryl debated keeping him asleep for longer. In the end though, it had been far too long since either of them had a proper meal, and Rick was gonna have a shitload of questions that Daryl wasn’t entirely sure he’d be ready to answer.  Daryl walked out of the cave, setting his wards almost as an afterthought to go hunt. 

 

There were all manner of beasts near Underhill.  There were everything from redcaps to catoblepas, imps to kitsune. Given the influx of the human world on the Fae, Daryl wouldn’t be surprised to see deer or rabbits running around.  Daryl knew that he would not be able to travel much past his wards due to the constraints of the Binding, but he also knew that meat would do much to keep Rick from sickness. There were also tubers and plants Daryl could cook to liven up their diet. He had no mead nor ale, but there was plenty of fresh, clean water in the springs attached to his cave. 

 

Daryl took a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of  _ home _ that surrounded him as he looked around the dense vegetation covered in a fine, sparkling mist. Tendrils felt cool as he walked through them and Daryl lifted his face with a little smile. The forest was teeming with life. It helped calm him; both from the shock of being here, in this place with Rick, and from the panicked realization that he was back, and likely to be here awhile. 

 

The rabbit that hopped across his path regretted it almost instantly. It almost looked like it could have been from the human world, aside from the dusky orange color and three-inch fangs. Either magic or survival had forced it evolve to live in such an untamed place,  and it had probably only been the fact that very few Fae, and almost no other elves every ate meat, let alone hunted it. Daryl offered up a quick prayer to Danu in thanks for providing sustenance and made his way back to his home. He knew that there would be many, many questions to come. 

 

Daryl just wasn’t sure if he was ready to answer them. 


	3. Chapter 2

Daryl figured he better do it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. There was no way that this was gonna go over well, no matter how well he sugar-coated it. Taking a quick, nervous, and wholly uncharacteristic look around his... well. _Their_ home, Daryl muttered two spells in quick succession: one to wake Rick up, and one to keep him from from moving.

 

He knew that Rick’s first instinct would be to go for one of the weapons he had on him, and Daryl couldn’t much blame him for that. Still, Daryl didn’t think that one of those Cold Iron bullets would feel too great ripping through his tender Fae flesh, either.

 

Rick’s eyes popped open, He sucked in a shocked, confused breath, and Daryl could see the panic on his face when he found that he couldn’t move.

 

“Rick. Calm down, man. It’s _me_ . You’re _safe_.”

 

Seeing Rick immediately relax did a funny sort of thing to Daryl’s heart.

 

“I’m gonna tell you what happened, but a lot of it’s not gonna make any sense. Gonna seem like a-” Daryl mentally rolled his eyes at himself- “a fairy tale.” He released the immobility spell.

 

Rick slowly swung his legs down, taking a more careful look around the small cave. Watching Rick look around, Daryl saw it through his eyes. The wards shimmered almost as bright as the sun for him, but for Rick they would barely glimmer, if he saw anything at all. He saw a small stove carved into the rock, with a natural chimney leading outside. The fireplace sported a thin, clay shelf, and a slightly stronger flat rock that could also be used to cook on. Under that sat their dinner, bubbling merrily away in a clay pot, the bottom covered in ashes from the fire. Rick squinted at the flames from the fire then rubbed his eyes as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Daryl smirked a little. The flames had a purplish cast. Opposite the fire, several chests sat about the room, and into the rock Daryl had long ago carved shelves for his books. Some of the cave’s surface glittered with gems, occasionally caught by the flames of the fire. There was a table of sorts, and an ancient stone bench, also formed from the caverock. He and Rick sat in what was obviously a bedroom. The large, flat rock could easily hold three people, and while Rick had been out, Daryl had quickly magicked some rushes and unpacked his blankets. Daryl didn’t get cold, but he knew that Rick might. Either way, he’d be more comfortable that way. The two of them had done enough sleeping on the floor to last a human lifetime.

 

Daryl knew that Rick couldn’t see it, but he could probably hear the running water at the back of the cave. There were two areas. Daryl wasn’t about to go shit in the woods (he’d gotten over that phase around the time of the Crusades, thanks) so he’d painstakingly coaxed both rock and springs into a series of aqueducts. The tiniest tendril of power provided enough water pressure for a fairly ingenious running toilet, if Daryl did say so himself. The other area hosted a series of natural springs, with three pools. There was an almost too hot pool, a larger one that ran a little more than human-normal, temperature-wise, and a much cooler pool. The natural ley line in this area couldn’t really be called a line- it was a sliver of a toothpick compared to a redwood- but it forced the water to circulate and trickle through another underwater stream further off in the back of the cave. Daryl had traded services with a water spryte to ensure that he could lie back and soak when he damn well wanted to.

 

“Where am I?”

 

Daryl sighed. “You ain’t gonna believe me if I tell you,” he warned, knowing how this was gonna play out. “I’m gonna tell you some stuff, and I need you to stay quiet while I speak, okay? Then I’ll answer any question you want, honestly.”

 

Daryl winced inwardly at the irony. Of course he would answer _honestly_. He was Bound by Law for all eternity to answer this human any query he wished, with no equivocation. There were many reasons that the Fae Folk didn’t often leave their Hills, and this was only one of them.

 

Rick nodded, and needing something to do, Daryl jumped up and served their rabbit stew into bowls. The bowls were very roughly hewn, as were the spoons, but they would serve their purpose. Rick looked a bit doubtfully at the stew, but his basic needs took over and he started eating.

 

Daryl sat back on the bench and began.

 

“The short answer is that you wished yourself here. ‘Here’ is my home. It’s been my home for eons, Rick, and I--”

 

Daryl dismissed the small glamour that convinced anyone that looked at him that his ears were round, instead of pointed, and that his eyes weren’t the blue Rick recognized, but a bright aquamarine that caught the light and shone like two tiny stars. Instead of the greasy, dirty hair Rick had cone to see as normal, brown locks that went to his calves streamed out behind him like a flag. He also dismissed the larger glamour that concealed his wings, letting the gossamer appendages unfold with a sharp snap that felt _incredibly_ good after so long.

  
“-I’m not exactly what you think I am.”


	4. Chapter 4

“ _Jesus fucking_ _Christ_!”

 

The bowl  _ plong!ed _ onto the floor as Rick jerked back so that his back was to the cave wall, fumbling at his waist for his Colt. 

 

Daryl was expecting this and used the immobilization spell again within the next heartbeat. “You ain’t dreamin’, Rick. You didn’t hit your head, and this isn’t the result of some bad mushrooms or nothin’ like that. I really am one of the Fae.” 

 

He walked slowly forward and plucked the Colt from Rick’s duty belt. While he was at it, he relieved Rick of the pocket knife and hunter’s knife he kept on him for emergencies. Daryl felt the Cold Iron more clearly here, and was surprised at the painful jolt on his fingertips, like a short shot of electricity. 

 

“You wished that ... that Lori didn’t die, and that she...” Daryl trailed off. He didn’t need to say it. He could see the pain on Rick’s face clear enough. As an afterthought he released Rick from the spell again, and waited. 

 

When Rick didn’t speak, Daryl bent to pick up the stew bowl and spoon, and set it back onto the slab of stone. One of the benefits of knowing Rick so well was that he knew Rick would process the impossible in his own time. Still, this was a rather harder pill to swallow than what Rick was probably expecting. 

 

“How?” Rick spoke low in this throat, a whisper that wasn’t quite ready to trust. 

 

“How... how am I one of the Fae? Or how did you come to be here?” Daryl could have made it easier on Rick, he knew, but frankly... this was Rick’s damn fault. Best he face up to the consequences sooner rather than later. 

 

“How... did you bring me here?”

 

Daryl scratched the tip of one ear, knowing it would draw Rick’s gaze like a kitten who’d found a laser point. “Technically  _ I  _ didn’t bring you here. Your words and your intent did. If I didn’t happen to be there then it would have just been...” Daryl trailed off. He’d been going to say ‘sad’, but Lori’s death was still pretty fresh in his own head. While he hadn’t been what one would call Lori’s biggest fan, she was Carl’s mother and Rick’s wife, and one of their group. “The Fae have a Law, called the Binding. It means that you return to my Hill with me for the rest of your life, in return for fulfilling your wish. It’s part of our oldest magic.”

 

That was probably the longest speech Rick had ever heard him say. Still, Daryl figured it really was best to get some of the inevitable questions out of the way. 

 

Rick sat up and reached out as though transfixed. Daryl caught his hand, eyes narrowing in what was almost a glare. “Next time, you ask. Yes, you can touch me, but watch the wings. They’re really sensitive.”

 

Daryl relied upon centuries of control at the feel of Rick’s calloused hands on his face. He went for the ears first, as they always did. Rick’s touch was gentle, and had Daryl not been controlling himself, he would have shivered. From his ears, Rick’s hands slid down to cup his cheeks, then his neck, and slide onto Daryl’s shoulders. Daryl turned slightly, and Rick’s touch ghosted over the silvery wings. 

 

Daryl felt like he could feel the swirl of each, individual fingerprint on Rick’s hand. Touching was quite different for his kind than it was for humans. While in the human world, Daryl had done his best to conform... which wasn’t all that great. He hadn’t been someone to readily touch anyone, while he felt like the humans in his group had been a constant mess of hugs, back slaps, brofists, slaps on the back, and (in the case of Maggie and Glenn) kissing and hand-holding. Even being topside for as many years as he was- it still wasn’t his first instinct. 

 

The trunk of his left wing was about four to five inches thick. The trunk of his right had withered quite a bit after he was exiled, so the colors were several shades darker. Where the left was an almost an incandescent shimmer of pearl, ecru, and cream, the right had a dull grey cast to it. 

 

Daryl had enough of the stroking, even as tame as it was, and pulled away out of Rick’s reach. He shook his wings out then folded them up again close to his back, and reset his glamour. Maybe if all Daryl’s oddities weren’t in Rick’s face, he could relax a little more. Rick’s hands traced the wings on Daryl’s vest, a look of almost painful understanding on his face. Rick sat down normally again and looked thoughtful, like he was processing things. 

 

“If you’re an elf, why do you have wings?” 

 

“Why wouldn’t I have wings?” 

 

“Well. Uh...Legol--” 

 

“Okay stop.” Daryl rolled his eyes hard enough that he was surprised he didn’t sprain anything. He held up a finger. “We gotta get some things straight here. JRR Tolkien was a troll.  _ No _ , not a literal troll, damnit. He was hired as a Bard and let into Underhill, and in turn he wrote about it in the human world, but got just enough wrong that we’ve been dealing with the fallout for centuries. Don’t believe me? Ask a dwarf about how they feel about him next time you see one.” He snorted. “Like the Fae folk  _ need _ a wizard to save their asses every ten minutes.” 

 

Actually, Daryl had really enjoyed Tolkien’s works. He had always enjoyed a story about the underdog, and a half-human, half- elf savior of all life on Middle-Earth appealed to him. Merle had made him watch the films though, laughing his ass off more at Daryl’s reactions to the elves than anything else. Thinking of Merle was still too painful, though, and Daryl pushed his thoughts away with a heavy heart. 

 

Daryl cleared his throat. “Elven kind- the ones you’re thinking of with the pointed ears- come in three--”

 

“Sizes?”

 

Daryl narrowed his eyes. 

 

“ _ Castes, _ jackass _. _ Underlings are the lowest. They’re Fae that have been exiled from Underhill. They don’t have a lot of magic, and that’s about the worst crime around these parts. Mixed in with them are the low beasts and other ilk. Nasty stuff, usually. Next are the Low Elves. They’re  the ones you’re thinking about. They have the ears and the eyes, but can’t leave their Hill. They’re not tied completely physically to a Place, but have to sort of... check in periodically or they die. High Elves are the winged ones, and they’re the ... controlling government. Royalty, I guess you’d say.” 

 

“So... you’re Royalty?”

 

Daryl forced himself not to react. “I was.” 

 

Rick scratched his head. “I think that I understood about three words in all of that, but I guess it’s not any weirder than the shit I’m used to out there.” 

 

Daryl cocked his head. “You seem to be taking all this pretty well. I was led to believe that humans wouldn't take all of this near as well.” 

 

Rick’s face twitched in the faintly guilty way it always did whenever someone mentioned Daryl’s brother. “Don’t have much choice. It’s pretty interesting in a haha-what-the-fuck-sort of way. How long til we can go back to Lori and Carl?” 

 

“Rick- you heard what I said to you, right?” 

 

“Yep. Wishes. Elves. Wings. Magic.” 

 

Daryl frowned again. “You seem to be glossing over a few fairly significant points, Rick.” 

 

“No, no, no.” Rick smiled. “I get it. I was upset, and I said something stupid and somehow you wiggled your nose or something and now we’re here. I’m just ready to go back is all.” 

 

“Rick.” Daryl spoke slowly, drawing out his words to make sure that Rick really heard him this time. “This is it. You and me? We’re here for a... a really long time. You can’t go back, man.” 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Rick didn’t speak for three weeks.

 

Daryl left him to it. He had no idea what it would be like to mourn for a dead spouse, even an estranged one. Even an estranged one who was pregnant with someone else’s baby. Oh sure. He and Carol had joked about it, but Daryl _knew._ The fetus hadn’t smelled like Rick. Not like Carl still did. Not like all closely related humans all vaguely reeked of each other’s pheromones. Still, Daryl wasn’t about to bring _that_ up. Especially not with Rick’s current state of mind.

 

Rick would eat if something was given to him, but he didn’t venture off the bed unless necessary. Once after their first day, he had tried to go out not to hunt, but to take a leak, and Daryl had steered him back to the area he used as a toilet. Rick would use it, would go back to bed and sleep. Humans weren’t meant to sleep so much.

 

Frankly, Daryl was worried. He knew that humans processed grief in many ways, but there was no way that this could be healthy. Oh, he’d tried to get Rick to come out of it, but there was nothing for him to do. Once, Rick had started muttering, and Daryl had been legitimately terrified to see that Rick had put his thumb and pinkie up to his ear and mouth, miming a telephone and was having conversations with Lori. When it happened again, Daryl decided that enough was fucking _enough_ and was ready to do something dramatic to jar Rick back to himself.

 

First, he hid his elvish features back under a glamour. Like his wings, maybe if his strange eyes and foreign ears were out of Rick’s sight, they’d be out of his mind. Second, Daryl picked a day when Rick had fallen into a natural sleep. It was easy enough to remove the small keychain Carl had made for his dad years ago, unwilling to take the chance that it would get ruined, and lighten Rick’s weight until he weighed almost nothing. Daryl started walking back to the bathing rooms, and with a quick gesture, made sure Rick floated behind him, still blissfully asleep.

 

Daryl removed his clothes and got into the warmer pool, hissing when the almost too-hot water relaxed his tightly-wound muscles. The steam smelled faintly of flowers and herbs, thanks to the water spryte who occasionally popped in to check on Daryl. With a flick of his fingers, Daryl moved Rick until he was over the deep part of the coldest part of the pool- and returned him to his normal weight.

 

Rick dropped like a stone, and came up with a screech and a splash that echoed around the otherwise peaceful cavern.

 

“ **MOTHER** ** _FUCKER_ **!”

 

Daryl smiled.

 

Rick just stared at him as though he’d done something unforgivable. Daryl shrugged one shoulder and gave him his best unimpressed stare. “Yeah,” he wasn’t able to lie, and he was afraid that he’d yell at Rick if he started- more for scaring him than anything else.

 

Rick stood up, still shivering. “Sh-sh-shit, that’s _cold._ ”

 

**_BAMF!_ **

 

The sound cracked through the cavern with an echo and a splash of glitterdust. Daryl had a split-second to wince before the wild Sheenaz appeared. The tiny blue spryte looked like what the human world had stereotyped as a pixie. She was only big enough to fit on the palm of Daryl’s hand, but her incandescent wingspan was easily a foot long. Green and blue tattoos of water rites and symbols covered her tiny legs, back, and torso. Her hair was the dark grey of a riotous sea before a storm, and snaked down her back in a thick braid, adorned with shiny gems.

 

“My Lord! How may I hell--- _oo_?”

 

One eyebrow winged up as she took her time looking from Rick’s toes all the way up his body to his quickly-reddening cheeks.

 

“Cold water, huh?” Her tiny face pinched in mock sympathy.

 

Rick’s eyes widened.

 

Daryl bit his lip.

 

Sheenaz beamed.

 

Rick actually covered his dick with his hands, sinking down into the water, looking slightly miffed. “The _water_ , if you _must_ know, is _cold_.”

 

The spryte smirked, a clear, ‘yeah, okay buddy’ look on her face.

 

“Thanks, Sheenaz. We’re okay here.” Daryl hid his smile, tilting up his head. The spryte flew over towards him, her wings flitting so fast that they were hard to discern with the naked eye. Rick, even though he was still pissed off and freezing, visibly caught his breath as she flew, shocked and awed by the tiny fae creature.

 

“My Lord, you say all is well, yet your... _guest_ has besmirched the temperature not once, but _twice_. Is all still to your needs?”

 

Daryl sighed. Back when he had first been exiled, the spryte had promised to trade regulation of the temperature for a small jolt of Daryl’s magic. Sprytes were usually tied to some sort of natural fissure, and as the long-ago Daryl had for all intents and purposes invaded her space, he had felt it the very least he could do. Plus, the bathing area was lovely. He’d missed it quite a lot while stumbling around the wilds of Georgia with Rick and their group of survivors.

 

“Yes.” He held up his hand with a little nod of acknowledgement. Sheenaz squeaked in happiness (or possibly anticipation) and flew to Daryl’s thumb, biting it softly. Fae blood, _royal_ fae blood packed quite a punch. Even such a miniscule drop (the spryte’s teeth were _exceptionally_ sharp) caused her to droop, drunk with sensation, before she kissed the small wound.

 

Instead of disappearing, as was her norm, Sheenaz flew back to Rick, coasting down to whisper something in the human’s ear. Whatever it was caused Rick’s blue eyes to widen, and a shockingly fierce blush to flood his cheeks and ears.

 

Then, she disappeared with another

 

**_BAMF!_ **

 

and veritable explosion of glitterdust.

 

Daryl pinched the top of his nose, sighing. He’d heard her of course. Very little got by him. Elves had exceptional hearing after all. She had no conception of tact, and no interest in using it. Telling a recently bereaved man that ‘you should go over to him and warm up’ was absolutely in the poorest taste ever. Probably.

 

And it made Daryl’s stomach jump around for reasons that he wasn’t particularly ready to examine.

 

“Uh... is it. Uh, she? G-g-gone?”

 

Rick’s voice stuttered with cold and Daryl rolled his eyes. “Yeah, she’s gone. Now go ahead and get your ass in here, before you freeze.” Rick’s skin had goosebumps on it.

 

Rick made his way towards the warmer pool, stepping over and easing slowly over the rocky surface. Daryl didn’t look at Rick, although he very much wanted to. It almost bothered him with how much he wanted to. Daryl turned so his back was to Rick and ducked under the surface of the water, rising up slowly so that his hair slicked back with the force of his movement.

 

Rick’s hiss as his chilled body became acclimated to the heat of the water echoed around the chamber. Daryl backed up and turned around again, seating himself on the natural stone bench at the far side of the pool. The waterfall to his left bubbled happily to itself, and the current caused the few pieces of glitter that the spryte had left to swirl around and around.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Daryl raised his eyes, looking over at Rick. The heaviness of the water had straightened his hair, causing Rick’s eyes to seem more blue than they actually were.

 

“For what?”

 

“For...” Rick trailed off, scratching his head. “For waking me up, I guess. I got so stuck on not being around Carl, and Maggie and Glenn, and Hershel and Carol that I forgot that... that Lori is _alive._ That the baby is... is gonna be fine.” Rick sounded like a man that was trying desperately to convince himself of something.

 

Daryl just nodded and threw some soap over to Rick. It landed with a _plop,_ filling the steamy chamber with the scent of rosemary and eucalyptus. Rick picked it up and sniffed it cautiously, only to have his eyes flutter shut in pleasure as the scent strengthened.

 

Rick soaped up, washing off the filth they all seemed to marinate in topside. Instead of the tense, depressed silence from before, this was much more calm. Pensive, perhaps. Daryl knew that Rick must have so many more questions than he had already asked, and part of Daryl was slightly uncomfortable with the knowledge that he _had_ to answer whatever Rick asked him, but the feelings were nothing like the almost physical discontent from before. Rick ducked under the water, holding his breath for a few seconds, before resurfacing.

 

“How---?”

 

“A system of aqueducts and natural drainage systems in fissures in the rocks.” Daryl hid a smile at the disappointed look on Rick’s face. Obviously the human had been hoping for a more... magical explanation.

 

“Oh. I thought the little--” Rick flitted his hands around like a butterfly.

 

“The water spryte? Sheenaz. Oh, incidentally, you summon her with mentions of the water temperature. She’s very helpful, but very mischievous. It might be best if... uh.”

 

“I keep my damn mouth shut?” Rick’s wan grin was unexpected, but very much welcomed.

 

“No. I imagine you have lots of questions. You can ask them when you’re ready.”

 

It was Rick’s turn to lay his head back against the smooth surface of the rock. All at once, Daryl realized that Rick looked absolutely exhausted.

 

“Thanks,” Rick said, shutting his eyes. “But this is actually.... kind of nice. Just bein’ here. With you.”

 

Daryl swallowed hard at the unexpected feeling that tightened his throat and caused his heartrate to increase. He waited a few minutes until he was sure that his voice would be steady, before responding.

 

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

 

The water was hot enough that even Daryl found himself relaxing. He wasn’t usually comfortable enough with his surroundings to actually relax, truth be told. But here? With Rick?

 

... it was nice.

 

Maybe _too_ nice.

 

Several minutes passed, with Daryl smiling at Sheenaz’s antics and grateful for the silence and he freedom of worrying about Rick. He could never quite forget about him... no. Not Rick. Rick was unforgettable. It reminded Daryl of things that he had long-since buried, and to his surprise, his body reacted to the flash of thought; heartbeat and respiration increasing with arousal. The heat on his cheeks would be easily explained (if Rick noticed- which why would he?) from the steam of the water, but Daryl was glad that Rick was far enough away that he wouldn’t notice the way his cock had filled just slightly enough that Daryl was hyper-aware of its thickening under the slightly swirling water, only a few feet from the human man.

 

“Daryl?”

 

Rick’s low voice barely carried to him.  The tentative note jarred Daryl out of his somewhat ridiculous contemplation of his arousal.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Rick waited a beat. “You said that you were... exiled, right? How can they kick out royalty?”

 

Daryl wasn’t sure if he was able to hide the wince.  That was... well, that was going to be quite an awkward story.  The compulsion to tell the truth pulled at him and Daryl found that he was talking almost before bringing his thoughts together into what he wanted to say.

 

“I committed a crime.”  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell this story- he just resented the fact that he had to _already_.  He didn’t need any precognition abilities to see how this was probably gonna go.

 

Rick reached up behind him then snorted a laugh at the small case of hygiene products that he found there. They weren’t fancy, but they were from the human world, all with labels that Rick would probably recognize, even with the fact that they were probably in bottles that looked like a 70’s throwback.  He opened one and sniffed, and Daryl was diverted enough to watch, somewhat fascinated.

 

While on the road, none of them had been very worried about cleanliness. Oh Daryl had snuck in the occasional spell when someone had been hurt and they’d not had anything to clean the wound handy, and there was the time he’d spelled away one of Carl’s cavities on the sly, but day to day washing had not been feasible. Or very practical.  They’d been so consumed with just making it to the next place, barely keeping ahead of the hordes of walkers that simple things like enjoying a hot bath were almost forgotten. Being here now was both the pinnacle of relaxation and the summit of guilt, knowing that Carol and T-Dogg, Maggie and Glenn, Beth, and Hershel and Rick’s family were all likely still miserable.

 

“What kind of crime?”

 

Daryl’s lips twitched. He should have known that Rick wouldn’t be diverted from Daryl’s response, despite the relative luxury of a hot bath.

 

“Fell in love with a human.”

 

Rick froze in the act of scrubbing his hair, then immediately tried to act like his words hadn’t shocked him into freezing.

 

 _Shit_. Better to just get it out. All of it. It wasn’t that he _wanted_ to lie to Rick, gods no. It was just... _shit._ “I am a hunter. I’ve always been more comfortable in the woods than with the endless politics of my kind. I would protect our borders, and report of anything to my Uncle. Wild magic and ley lines were frequently an issue. The magic they produced at their node--”  He broke off, realizing the absurdity of explaining nodes and ley lines to a human.

 

Rick had cocked his head in the way he frequently did when he was processing information. “I uh. Magic. And nodes. I read a lot of fantasy in my day and now I’m not certain as to what is real and what was ...er. Fantasy.”

 

Daryl held out his hand, ignoring how it dripped into the water. He also tried not to notice how Rick’s gaze had zeroed in on him, but was not quite as successful. “Ley lines feed into nodes.” Daryl pointed to the nail bed on his finger. “Sometimes the line of contact is smooth, where nature has made sure that everything has gone where it’s supposed to go.” He brushed his finger over the first knuckle, then the second and over the  back of his hand. “It’s smooth; no scars to mar the flow of energy into the land, or the air, or the water.” He flipped over his hand where he’d gotten a rusty piece of metal stuck in the meat of his palm, near the life line. The mix of Cold Iron and infection that he’d been too stubborn to heal had caused his skin to pucker up and scar. Daryl traced the tip of his middle finger over this palm and stopped at the scar. “Sometimes there’s a disturbance, and the force of the magic forces a new ley line to form.” He traced his finger around the raised scar, onto his wrist and following the curved path of his life line until his finger hovered over air, having no more skin to trace. Daryl plopped his finger into the water, so it caused a loud splash.

 

Rick had been so focused on Daryl’s words that he flinched at the splash, shocked.  

 

“So, the ley line now isn’t following its natural path, and the magic that springs up in its place is wild- needing to be smoothed back into a natural order.” Daryl looked up at Rick, who nodded at him, like this made perfect sense. “Sometimes that magic isn’t smooth. It is dark, or twisted, like dirty water being forced into an ice-cube tray. You still have ice, but you don’t want to drink it. The ice is sometimes misshapen, or you can see where the sediment and imperfections have broken away from the cleaner water once it freezes, right?”

 

Rick nodded again.

 

“Well, once while out scouting these lines, I found something... odd. Even for this place it was odd. Someone had made a Work- ah. Uh, magically constructed object that they’d probably use to scry or focus their thoughts. It was made from stone, but as soon as I brushed my fingers over it, I could...”  Daryl trailed off, with a shiver.  

 

Even hundreds of years later, he still knew that he would never forget the charge of touching something with such concentrated wild magic. It had been more than a live wire, more than just a jolt of sensation. It had hit him at the core of his magic, both sucking it dry and changing him utterly. After that point his entire magical signature had changed. He’d been both less, and more, but different enough that his Uncle and all his people had noticed.

 

“It let me see things. People, danger, the potential for danger. I had been alone for a very long time, and it. It showed me a face. I didn’t know what that meant at the time.  Other than human, I couldn’t really see anything else. But I... I found myself ignoring my duties to my people. I kept the stone hidden, and blocked my mind so that no one would know of its existence.” Daryl swallowed. He was fairly certain that he’d done more talking in the month that he’d been here with Rick than he’d done in all of the time he’d known Rick in the human world. He felt more comfortable here, and knew that it was best to speak of anything uncomfortable now, since they’d be spending a fuckton of _un_ comfortable time together if this shit didn’t get out in the open.

 

“I uh. I was obsessed. I’d stare at it and lose time. Neglect my duties. Hide its existence from the Elders. I would touch the lines of the face, the ridge of a cheekbone, the line of a jaw, and imagine that this was who I was meant to spend the eternity of my life with.”

 

“The magical makeup of the stone... I do not know if my magic triggered it, or if it was sentient enough to push its wishes and desires into my psyche, but I began to see other things. Snatches of this person’s everyday life. Images of things that seemed utterly fantastical at the time, although now I can see what it was showing me.  Glimpses of this person’s life. Glimpses of me _in_ this person’s life.”

 

“Oh. Let me guess. You’re not supposed to fall in love with a human woman.”

 

Daryl blinked a few times, shocked by the tone of Rick’s voice. He sounded off; voice roughened. His body language had changed as well, becoming more closed off and less relaxed as Daryl told his tale.

 

“The crime is more with the species than the gender.” Daryl spoke slowly, waiting for Rick to understand. When he didn’t respond, Daryl bit his lip. uncharastically nervous.

 

“No one with royal blood is able to leave Underhill for long. We physically cannot as our magic is tied to its continued existence. I knew this of course, and found that the idea of another eon or two of continuing on as I had done, seemed exhausting. Unpalatable. I was given some freedom while I hunted, but for all of that, I was still tied to the whims of my Uncle and my People. The artifact did not have any dark magic, nor did it leave the slightly greasy feeling some of the more insidious mind alternating magics did. I had no reason to distrust it, and still do not. Whoever this man was in the stone--” Daryl ignored both Rick’s shocked breath and the funny wiggle his heart gave at the sound. “--he was someone I trusted implicitly. Someone I could be loyal towards, could perhaps forge a bond with. In my world such a need was trivialized, and given that a mortal's lifespan is a mere eyeblink to my own---I knew that any requests I gave for leave to pursue him as my own would be denied. So I... improvised.”

 

Rick still would not look at him. His muscles had tightened and Daryl could hear that Rick was grinding his teeth.

 

“I used some of the magic from the nodes to build this place. I knew I would need someplace to live while I searched for my--” Daryl broke off with a wince. “The man in the stone. I ensured that there was a small node nearby so when my Uncle cut off my magic and ties to Underhill, I would still be able to exist. Then I... ensured that they would have no more use for me as I had betrayed them with my desire for a human.”

 

That sounded much simpler than what had actually happened. The Fae did not take kindly to one of their own turning their back on them. There had been magical bindings, and pain when they had ensured he would never be able to use his wings again. They would never support his weight, not damaged as they were. Without access to proper healing spells, they were not even decorative any more. They’d died, fading from their once beautiful forest green color to white, then grey, shrivelling up like the unused limbs they were. Just as well that he kept them hidden.

 

“I see.” Rick obviously made an effort to normalize his behavior, continuing to wash before ducking under water to rinse off.

 

Daryl knew that his confession, plus the fact that they were bathing together had probably stretched the absolute limits of Rick’s heteronormative comfort zone.

 

“So did you find him?”

 

Daryl winced. _Aw, shit. Here we go._

 

“Yes.” Daryl’s only defense was keeping his answers short and sweet. Otherwise...

 

“Did he know what you were?”

 

“Not at first.” Daryl’s heartrate kicked up.  Rick’s questions were blunt- leaving no room for provocation- even if Daryl was able to do so.

 

“Did he... love you back?”

 

Daryl swallowed. “Definitely not. He’s married. To a woman.” Saying it out loud didn’t make it any less true.

 

Rick’s eyebrows crinkled as he finally turned to make eye contact with Daryl. “Wait. That’s not how these things are supposed to go. You said you saw him a long, long time ago. Years, right? Decades? Longer?”

 

Daryl nodded, then felt the compulsion to verbalize it. “Yes.”

 

“But you gave up everything for him!” Rick wiggled his fingers around in a way that Daryl took to mean ‘magic’, although it could just have easily been a muscle spasm. “That’s not...”

 

Daryl smirked. “Fair? Most of life- even for one such as myself- is not ‘fair’, Rick. I did spend quite a while with him in your world. In that time we became... close. Like brothers. I knew what he needed, and he trusted me more than anyone else. It was... perhaps not what I had wished for, but still meaningful. Important.”

 

“But then he... he died.”  Rick’s face twitched in a way that Daryl could not interpret.

 

The _idea_ of Rick being dead, even when he had absolute, empirical proof that he was alive caused Daryl to gasp, his eyes widening.

 

Rick reached out to touch Daryl’s arm, and something unexpected _lurched_ . There was an almost physical _click_ as though two different puzzle pieces had finally slotted together. It felt like everything in Underhill tilted just slightly. It jolted Daryl right down to his bones and it took a second for him to realize that Rick was still speaking.

 

“I should have never done that. You would have been together if I hadn’t handcuffed him to that fucking roof. _God_ , Daryl, how can you even stand to be near me?”

 

Daryl blinked several times, trying to parse together what in the hell---oh. Oh for fuck’s sake.

 

“No, ya damn idiot. I wasn’t in love with _Merle_!” The idea was so horrendous that Daryl had to stifle a crazy urge to laugh. “Merle isn’t even all the way human! And he’s definitely not dead, despite what you had to do on that roof.”

 

Rick slowly lifted his hand, looking impossibly confused. Daryl bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for Rick to work it out. When he did, it almost made him laugh at the absolutely gobsmacked look on Rick’s face. Rick’s mouth even dropped open a little in shock, blue eyes almost painfully wide.

 

“Yeah, knew ya’d get there in the end,” Daryl muttered, and tried not to cringe, waiting for Rick’s reaction.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...er. Sorry(ish) for the cliffie :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

 

Rick blinked. 

 

Daryl waited. 

 

Rick blinked again. 

 

Daryl rolled his eyes and got up out of the water, telling himself not to be disappointed. It was stupid to waste the magic, but he also wanted to show off for the human who was now staring at him with eyes so wide they looked like they would fall out of his head. With a shake of his head, Daryl dissipated the glamour. The spell had the additional effect of physically pushing the water off of Daryl, back into the pool. He turned on his heel and flounced away, not giving a fuck that he was naked or not hiding his Fae self. 

 

It was stupid to be disappointed, and even stupider to be mad. Rick couldn’t help who he was. He couldn’t help who he loved, and he damn sure couldn’t help that he would be more likely to sleep with Sheenaz than another man. Daryl wrinkled his nose, not even sure how that’d work. Ah well. Sheenaz was crafty. She’d find a way.

 

He rubbed his hand over his face, bending over to dig into one of the trunks for something to wear. 

 

The talk of Merle made Daryl miss his friend. They weren’t actually brothers, of course. Merle was what the human world knew as an Djinn. He was selfish, and often cruel. He found humans frustrating, even more petty than he was, and often moronic. He’d much rather spend eternity in his lamp than have to deal with either Fae or humans. The bit with the walkers was just an added, extra bonus as far as Merle was concerned. Nothing on Earth delighted Merle more than being able to fuck over a human in some way, shape or form. But, for all of that, he admired honesty and loyalty. When necessary, when given the opportunity, he enjoyed being unpredictable. Daryl wished that he could see how Merle’s time would play out, because he for damn sure hadn’t died on that rooftop. Daryl hadn’t seen hide nor tail of him in awhile though, and perhaps it was time to check in. 

 

Something to think about anyway. 

 

“Hey! You just ran off.” 

 

Daryl whirled, his hair fanning out behind him. It had dried perfectly straight, and the silky strands stuck to absolutely everything. He’d only pulled on a tunic and a pair of trousers in the time that Rick had given him. 

 

Rick was naked, and soaking wet. Daryl narrowed his eyes and turned away from the human in front of him, rummaging in the trunk for a towel. He slung it at Rick and bent to pick up his crossbow, fully intending to go outside. He’d had about enough of humanity for the day, thanks.

 

“Wait.  _ Please _ , Daryl. Wait.” 

 

Daryl had to bite back a moan at the feel of Rick’s hand on his arm. He could have broken the human’s hold, but didn’t particularly want to. If this was the only time that Rick would actually touch him, then so be it. 

 

“Look, I’m sorry.”

 

Daryl winced. Yeah, he knew Rick was sorry. Of course he would be. It was asinine to be sorry when one couldn’t help their nature. 

 

“It’s ah. A lot to wrap my head around.”

 

Daryl waited, pained. 

 

“But... you know you’re not alone, right? I mean, I haven’t uh, known you as long as you’ve... known of me or anything, but one of the things I was thinking about when I was... quiet from before was how of all the people--” Daryl could actually hear Rick wince. “The uh, humans and nonhumans? Fae? Elves? I’m not sure what the PC term is here, man.” 

 

“Fae is fine.”

 

“Er. Right. I just... we’re supposed to spend forever together, right?”

 

“Approximately.” Daryl couldn’t lie about this, but he was glad that Rick couldn’t see his face. He was dimly aware of Rick stepping closer to him, but kept himself rigid. He knew that Rick would try to make this easier on him, but Daryl had no illusions about how this was gonna go. 

 

“What do you mean, approximately?”

 

“Your lifetime will extend. Mine will shorten, to make us more even, mortality-wise. Well, here, I mean.”

 

Rick staggered back, and Daryl winced inwardly.  He probably could have expressed that better. 

 

“How-How long? Exactly how long are we talkin’ here? Twenty years? Fifty? Two-hundred?”  Rick paled and Daryl cursed himself for being an insensitive asshole. 

 

“I can’t say for certain. This has only happened a handful of times in all of our history and the... well... Daryl trailed off. The cases of practical slavery the other (for lack of a better word) couples experienced were less than ideal, and wouldn’t be the case here. Not with him and Rick. “It was just different.” 

 

Rick’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Daryl for a long moment. He cocked his head, processing the information. Just when Daryl started to really worry that they were going to have a problem, Rick spoke.

 

“All I know is that whenever I’ve needed you, you’ve been there. Whenever something needs to be done, you’ve done it. I know this is my fault; us being tied together like this, but when Lori died I just couldn’t live with myself. Couldn’t stand that I hadn’t made things right with her before she... she was gone. Only now,  _ again  _ because of you, she’s okay. She’s alive, and it just means that I have to go away. Away with you.” Rick took a deep breath. “I guess that I mean it’s not fair to you if I don’t... try.”

 

Daryl had bit his lip when Rick started, and felt his heart pounding with the more and more Rick said. “What do you mean, ‘try’?” He turned around, long habit causing him to swoop so that his hair didn’t get caught on anything. 

 

Rick had wrapped himself in the towel while Daryl was facing the opposite way. While in the human world, Daryl had heard the phrase ‘hangdog expression’ a handful of times. He never quite put its definition together until just now. Even Rick’s hair looked dejected. If ‘sorry’ was a perfume, it would be hanging around him in little clouds. 

 

“I mean... I can stop moping around, feeling sorry for myself. I can help you with whatever you want or need help with. If you’d rather, I can read up on Fae history, instead of having you tell me all of it. I can... I don’t know. I can be your friend again.”

 

Daryl didn’t react outwardly, but he knew what Rick was trying to say. It was the same song they’d been singing in the pools, just with a different verse. Daryl being in love with Rick didn’t change the fact that Rick was married. Rick having for all intents and purposes divorced his wife didn’t mean that he wasn’t still in love with her. In a weird way, the two of them were in this position because Rick couldn’t live without her. 

 

... even though he was, now, living without her. 

 

Daryl sighed. Rick tried a smile that felt a little flat. 

 

“I get that. And there is stuff we can do; a few places of Underhill we can try. Not sure how the Binding works in relation to my own Hill; we might not ever be able to go much further than a few feet. What information I have of past Bindings isn’t quite applicable here.” He shrugged. “Or, we can go for days and explore. Won’t know ‘til we try.” He also wanted to explore what it did to the artifact when Rick was present. Would it change the magic?  _ Something _ had happened when they’d touched for the first time; surely there had to be a reason. 

 

“I’d like to meet your family.” Rick’s grin turned a slight bit feral. “I mean, the people you had the ‘disagreement’ with. The ones that hurt you.” 

 

Daryl hadn’t said any of that out loud, but trust that of all people, Rick would be the one to put it together. For all that he was absolute shit at figuring out emotional stuff, he was rather clever when it came to all the rest. Imagining his Uncle’s reaction to learning that Daryl had indeed actually been Bound to a human would be... interesting, to say the least. Daryl smiled.

 

“Well, we’ve got enough time to figure it all out.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and that's it! This went from a quick oneshot, to something with chapters to an entire series! I have tons of ideas, but feel free to leave me comments or drop me an ask about what you'd like to see. (I have a feeling that Djinn Merle will be popular, lol.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!! <3


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